


I Like What You've Got

by Krank



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bromance, Fluff, Humor, Kleptomania, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krank/pseuds/Krank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In which Niall is protective of his things and Harry is an unaware moocher.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like What You've Got

If there was one thing Niall didn’t like, it was _sharing_. He wasn’t a selfish prick or anything, but growing up with a brother, even one who was six years his senior, had made him very possessive of his things. Unfortunately, living with four additional brothers in cramped quarters made it quite difficult.

———

Niall sat himself down on one of the benches at the table in the tour bus. The place was quiet, each of his band mates seemingly having his own thing to do. It was around noon, and he had just received the Nandos he had sent for. Ideally he would have preferred to head out to the actual restaurant, but he just couldn’t be bothered. They had sound check in under an hour and going anywhere was too much of a production. Thus, he was seated comfortably with his take away, enjoying the silence. Silence was golden when you did what Niall did for a living.

“Niall!”

Spoke too soon.

Harry stumbled in to the living area of the bus, as if he were unused to the size of his own feet. Niall nodded in his direction, tucking in to his meal.

“What’ve you got there? Oh! Did you order Nando’s?”

Harry flopped on to the bench across from Niall gracelessly, eying the chicken and rice his band mate was enjoying. At this, Niall pulled his plate closer to him protectively. Harry had his vulture face on.

“You’re welcome to order your own, if you-“

Niall was cut off when Harry reached across the table and plucked a chicken wing from his plate. “Thanks.”

It was when Harry went in for a second piece of Peri-Peri goodness that Niall slapped his hand with his fork. Harry retracted it, a slightly hurt look on his face.

What followed was an intense staring contest between the two of them, Niall with a determined, cold gaze and Harry closely resembling that of an abused puppy.

It was a heavily exaggerated whimper from his curly counterpart that ultimately broke his resolve. He shoved his plate in to the center of the table and allowed Harry to help himself. Something about the serene smile etched on to Harry’s sauced lips made it all a little more worth it.

———

It was 5:30 in the morning. The bus had just pulled up to their hotel moments before and Niall was getting his bag together of things he might like to have with him for the next day. It had been a couple days of gigs every night and a new city every day. After playing Stockholm, they had made the six-odd hour journey to Copenhagen and now had the day off in the city.

Niall had big plans for his day off.

He was going to do absolutely _nothing_.

First things first, though: He couldn’t find his favorite soap.

“Where’s my body wash?” He asked to the room, rooting through his bunk. The soap was sort of special to him. It was an American brand that he got sent over to him. He liked the smell and it was good on his weak Irish skin that became sensitive sometimes, especially in the winter and spring months.

Zayn, ever _not_ a morning person, shrugged and continued to struggle himself in to a shirt. Niall looked over at Liam, who also frowned and shook his head.

“I have no idea, Nialler.”

Niall grumbled, zipped up his bag and headed out. Luckily, it being five thirty in the morning meant that it was literally a ghost town. Parents wouldn’t allow even the most dedicated of fans out this early in the morning to stand outside of a hotel in the middle of the city. Niall was walked to his room, just in case, and given his key card. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

Later in the day, once he was rested, had showered with the itchy soap the hotel supplied, and filled his stomach with satisfactory room service, he found himself quite bored. Doing nothing only seemed exciting until you were actually _doing nothing_.

It was because of this that Niall found himself at Harry’s door some moments later. He knew that Zayn had probably up and disappeared for the day, and that Liam and Lou had mentioned braving the streets to go shopping, so he hoped that Harold had stuck around like him. If not, he would go find Josh. He gave the door three sharp knocks.

There was a noise from inside.

“Harry, it’s Niall.”

More noises, sounding hurried and clumsy. The door opened. Harry was dressed in a pair of shorts and nothing else. Twenty quid said he was lounging in his favorite suit before Niall showed up. His hair was also wet and combed back. It looked absolutely ridiculous.

“Sorry, just got out of the shower.”

They ended up watching football and ordering more room service. It was comfortable, just the two of them. Niall liked spending time with Harry. He enjoyed all of his mates’ company, but with Harry there was something different. Maybe it was because Harry was younger, or maybe because he was single like Niall, but it just felt a little more relaxed. Harry would say the most random shit and do practically whatever he pleased. If Harry wanted to put his feet on your lap, then Harry put his feet on your lap. He was a very simple human being who didn’t need much to make him happy, and Niall liked that about him.

Nature called sometime between matches and Niall excused himself, climbing out from under Harry’s legs, which stubbornly refused to move from on top of him. While doing his business, however, Niall made an alarming discovery.

“Is this my body wash?” He asked, marching up to the small sofa and holding the bottle out so his friend could see it.

Harry frowned for a moment, attempting to process the situation, and then his eyes lit up.

“Oh! Maybe. I’m not sure. I found it on the bus.”

“It’s empty.” Niall shook it, hearing no movement from within the plastic container.

Harry stared at him. “Sorry.”

Niall sighed, defeated. It was practically impossible to have anything to himself.

He threw the bottle to the side and flopped down on top of Harry, ready to resume watching the game.

“Ow!”

“You deserve it,” Niall snapped.

“Heyyy.”

———

The next day, the boys had finished with sound check and were hanging out in their dressing room back stage at Parken Stadium. They had some time to kill, and were waiting on catering. Zayn was napping on one of the couches, and Harry was sprawled on the other, attention focused on his laptop.

Correction: Niall’s laptop.

“Why are you using my laptop?” Niall asked, staring down at Harry incriminatingly.

Harry didn’t respond.

“ _Harry_!” Niall barked, poking his head. Harry jumped and craned his head back on the armrest, effectively looking at Niall upside down.

“What?”

“That’s mine.” Niall gestured to the device, which boasted an Irish flag sticker and a scratch from that time Liam had dropped a guitar on it.

Harry looked back at the MacBook Pro for a moment. “Oh, yeah. Couldn’t find mine. Hope you don’t mind.”

Niall’s eyebrow twitched. “But it’s sort of personal, you know.”

Harry grinned devilishly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mother what’s in your Internet history.”

Niall felt his cheeks get hot. He was about to calmly separate himself from the situation when he noticed something else oddly out of place.

“Is that my shirt?”

Harry looked back at him, and then down at the grey jumper he was wearing. He contemplated it for a moment, eyebrows knitted. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

It took all of Niall’s power not to sit on him again.

———

It was late, or early – whatever way you wanted to look at it. The boys had left Copenhagen behind shortly after coming off the stage. They had come down from their adrenaline highs with a few rounds of FIFA and one after another sauntered off to bed to catch a few magical hours of sleep.

Niall was curled up in his bunk, unable to quite get himself settled. The bunks were comfortable, but he wasn’t. He was a little cold, and his legs felt restless. It happened sometimes after shows; took his body a little longer to calm down.

He had turned over for the millionth time when the curtain shielding him from the narrow hallway slid open. He was about to growl at whoever decided it would be funny to disturb him at arse o’clock in the morning when he was roughly shoved over towards the wall.

“What the fu-“

“Shh!” Harry’s sleepy, gravely voice hissed in his ear as a long, lanky body crawled in to his bunk behind him.

“No, please, come right in,” Niall grumbled, throwing his head back down on his pillow. “Harry, what in the hell are you doing?” Niall moaned, knowing there was no way this could end well.

“I like your bunk better,” Harry whispered, shifting and wiggling around until he was under the covers.

“Bullshit.”

Harry stopped moving. “No, I’m serious. It’s more comfortable than mine.”

“Alright, Goldilocks.”

“My hair isn’t blond.”

“Never mind.”

There was silence after that, Harry having finally settled. There was barely enough room for one person in the bunks, let alone two, and Harry was the king of sleep-sprawling because he couldn’t possibly figure out where to tuck all of his gangly limbs.

Niall decided then that maybe he should just give up on trying to have his own things. He wasn’t a child anymore; after all, he was an adult. The icing on the cake was Harry Styles’ personal mission to have what everyone else had. He was a simple human being, yes, but included in his simplicity was a fascination with things that weren’t his. If there was a lonely hat in their dressing room, it found it’s way to Harry’s head. If someone left a plate of biscuits out, Harry had to eat them in order to determine why they might have been abandoned.

Harry was a bit odd.

But Niall supposed that that was also something he liked about him.

He was pulled from his internal discussion when an arm found it’s way around him.

Harry was also as clingy as an octopus.

“I hope you kept your pants on,” Niall mumbled.

Harry snorted.

Instead of feeling awkward, Niall relaxed in to the cuddle. He even felt his eyelids get heavy. Harry was already snoring lightly behind him, no more words between them. Niall sighed and let sleep take him, feeling the gentle sway of the tour bus heading to the next city on their tour and the solid, warm body behind him.

Maybe sharing wasn’t all that bad after all.


End file.
